Inner Angel
by Orochimartyr
Summary: One shot of Serpent Sannin inner turmoil. It's more difficult to be bad than you think.


Orochimaru stood tall, composed in his usual regal and demanding bearing. There was no wind. His sleek obsidian hair cascaded without motion down his back, tapering between his shoulder blades. There was no ground. There was nothing but this tundra of muted white, so empty it was somehow cloying.

There was only one other figure in this ethereal space. One figure standing directly across from him. He swept his golden eyes over the figure. The figure stared back with eyes that were the same metallic shade, so bright they almost produced their own light.

He was staring at himself.

And yet somehow he was different. This other figure was worn, emaciated. It seemed somehow dull, muted all but for the eyes. Its hair had lost its luster. The markings around its eyes seemed seared into tarnished porcelain. It stood slightly hunched, its shoulders drawn nervously about its jaw. It clasped its own bony fingers as if to make sure it was even still there.

"**Who are you?**" He stated into nothingness The words hung in the air and did not seem to go anywhere yet the figure parted cracked lips to speak in response.

"**I am your humanity.**"

Its voice was his own but substantially slower and pained. It was like the hands of a rusted watch still dutifully trying to function. The words sounded as if they were spoken right next to him. There was a pregnant pause as Orochimaru narrowed his eyes at this apparition.

"**That is ridiculous.**" He stated sharply as his shoulders rolled back in a defensive manner.

The other nigh literally cracked a smile and gave a half-hearted laugh that was far from empty. It bowed its head slightly.

"**You're still so cold, even to** **yourself.**" It spread its lank fingers over its all but concave chest. "**It is not just an act anymore is it? I try to remind you that I am still here, but it just hurts too much doesn't it?**"

Orochimaru remained silent throughout the other's speaking. Its words were slow and deliberate, it sounded as if saying them hurt. Clearly this was a dream or a hallucination. He tried to focus less on its words and more on the logical function of dream states but he could not tear his attention away.

"**I thought you wanted to know everything.**" Its tone was not mocking. It was not enraged. It was devoid of the usual honey and venom his words dripped with. It was some mix of emotions that Orochimaru did not regularly utilize.

"**Of course.**" Was all he hissed at it, trying not to give it much to go on. This was, of course, ridiculous. It was him.

"**Then why don't you know me? Why have you made no effort to understand? All your notes, all your logs and data do nothing for me.**" It was slowly ramping up and getting more upset. It was not louder. It was only more anguished. Orochimaru silently begged for it not to utter a few key words, words he did not need to hear. Things he does not want to think about. But this was its purpose.

"**Isn't it tiring to be in control all the time? You've wanted things, things that normal people want. Things that normal people have, things they attain with little effort. Why can't I have a family? Why have I never deserved one?**" It sounded on the verge of tears.

Orochimaru snarled at the pitiful wraith. Its expression was beside itself in sorrow, an expression that looked very alien on him. He had never lost so much control as it was expressing. It was disgusting him but only because disgust was the closest of the emotions he kept. It was destroying him.

"**Stop.**" He barked at it. It only hissed at him, making an inhuman noise like a hundred serpents sorrowfully drowning.

"**STOP**." All at once his hands were clamped around its throat. He could feel its esophagus splintering, flesh bruising, sinew convulsing. He could not look away from essentially choking the life from himself. Slowly it changed shape in his grasp, its teeth becoming fangs, skin scaling over and its chin growing to that familiar point.

Orochimaru had slain his begging humanity and made a monster of it.

He woke up with no motion. His eyes merely opened to a canopy of stars framed by shadows of trees. He had been propped up against something heavy and warm. A glance over his shoulder found it to be a dozing Jugo. Suigetsu was sprawled out in the leaf littler not a few inches away. Sasuke was sitting up by the small fire gazing restlessly up at the sky.

The loyal one. The resilient one. The lost one.

What was he?


End file.
